I Know What You Are
by wackystrings123
Summary: He stood there, watching her with an animalistic gleam in his eyes, fresh scarlet blood dripping from his enlarged fangs. She needed to leave but something held her there…desire.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I doubt whether you all still remember _I know What You Are, _it was my third story. I deleted it because I wasn't very happy with it and now I am rewriting it. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy.**

Summary: He stood there, watching her with an animalistic gleam in his eyes, fresh scarlet blood dripping from his enlarged fangs. She needed to leave but something held her there…desire.

I Know What You Are

by wackstrings123

The night was unbearably cold but he wasn't affected by it.

No sound came from the leaves or twigs as they snapped beneath his sneakered feet. No ruffling came from his clothes as he slid between the tightly clustered trees, hooded eyes trained forward to his destination. As he stepped out into the clearing the silvery glow of the moonlight illuminated his darkened features, casting an eerie shadow across his face. His pale hands sunk deep into the depths of his jeans pockets, his shirt billowing in the mild breeze, his damp hair matted across his forehead, he stalked towards the lone swing-set in the center of the opening, only to discover that at that very moment, _his _swing set was occupied.

Shock and utter rage traversed through his body, singeing his blood vessels as his dark eyes landed on the figure sheathed in gray rocking gently back and forth on the swing. His sturdy body shook with anger and disbelief as his large hands curled into iron fists. He squinted his eyes and pulled his lips back in a snarl, body poised for the attack. Quietly, he snuck towards the figure, his ferocious eyes focused on the gray hoodie adorning the persons back. He felt his tight lips stretch into a wicked smirk, carefree and unsuspecting, just the way he desired. As he neared the silhouette, he took in the person's size, tiny and hunched; definitely a female, no less than sixteen perhaps, still in high school, he concluded.

Just then as if sensing his presence, the female's body perked up. Her protective stance on the motionless swing straightened, her bare feet which had been concealed beneath the warm silvery sand peacefully kicking at small grains froze. From where he stood, he noticed her small covered hand twist round the metal wires of the swing. But she could not hear him, sense him or feel his presence around her. He could tell she was listening keenly, for any telltale signs of his presence but he knew all she could hear was the sound of the noisy wind rustling through the leaves and the coyotes howling in the distance. She was unprotected, vulnerable, and ready for him to sink his aching teeth into her tender flesh. He felt a gnawing hunger claw at his stomach, despite the fact that he had just fed moments prior, but she was different, fuller, more enticing. He could almost taste her alluring scent in the dry frigid air around him; he could hear her rich blood pulsing through her veins, could almost taste the nourishing liquid slide over his tongue and trickle down his throat satisfying the burning hunger he felt.

Another few more steps and he would be able to know what she tasted like… just a few more steps…

Then her body twisted.

He had not been prepared for this action nor did he know how to respond to it. Usually his victims never expected his attacks so he was beyond appalled when she did.

"If you touch me, I'll scream."

Her strong and confident words resonated through his skull, weakening his senses as the melodic tune passed through his overly sensitive ears. He could not see her facial features for they were still hidden beneath the hood of her hoodie. He felt all traces off attack leave his body and he fell into a somewhat relaxed pose. He let his eyes land on what he knew were her eyes.

"And what makes you think that that is what I desire?"

A stifled snort passed through her lips but he could tell she was still tense, but what puzzled him was the fact that he could not sense any fear radiating off her let alone any other emotion; she was like a brick wall, hard and unreadable.

"Then what is it you _desire_?"

She was making fun of him, finding humor in his words. He found her laid back and humorous attitude puzzling. Was she not meant to be scared and intimidated by him? This was all too confusing, he hated not being feared. His frustration led to a silent growl to flow through his parched lips. He had to leave now, before she drove him insane with her emotionless demeanor. With one cautious step back he let the one syllable word that had been flowing through his head to enter her mind, before he vanished in the thick foggy air.

_You_…

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><p>She had never been able to understand what it was exactly that she had ever done to them to give them a reason to treat her the way they did. At first it baffled her and she tried everything in power to please them. She had wasted fourteen years of her life trying with no avail and now she had finally given up, letting them do whatever they pleased, even if it meant physically and emotionally hurting her. The first time she had ever actually taken notice and queried of their cruelty towards her was when she was merely six years old. Whilst most children her age were being taught how to ride bikes or throw a football, she was hosed up in the kitchen, caught between washing the dishes and cleaning the floors. Being like this all through her earlier years, she believed that this was how most children were supposed to be brought up so she went along with it, until she went over to friend's house for the first time and saw how different things were there.<p>

When she had asked her parents why they never let her play outside with other children or learn to ride a bike or even watch television, she only received such responses as being sent to bed early, being hit for being too rude or severe ear twisting. So she had kept her lips sealed ever since those few encounters and proceeded to try and please not only her parents but her classmates who had taken pride in pushing her around and walking over her.

To sum it up, her life had been a living hell for the past seventeen years and she doubted that it was going to change anytime soon.

"Gabriella!"

She ignored the person and continued to push her legs faster, taking her farther and farther away from the person. She clutched her school books tightly to her chest as she tore her way through the deserted East High School halls.

"Ms. Montez, wait!"

She forced herself to ignore, silently begging the person to go away, to leave her alone. She bit down harshly on her lower lip to keep from responding. She had to get home soon, or she would have hell to pay.

"Gabriella Montez!"

Unable to ignore any further, she stopped walking and turned around mechanically.

She glared at the slightly older female jogging towards her, hardly out of breath. All through school, she had always been known as the cold, heartless _bitch_, East High's Ice Queen, _that _girl that never speaks and many more names. She ignored them, the names, the jeers, the taunts, the insults. None of them could penetrate her wall of steel, one that she had built at the age of thirteen.

With a much darker complexion, Azra Salvatore stood barely a foot over Gabriella. Her dark and thick curls framed her light brown, small heart shaped face and fell right into her bright hazel eyes. She was super model thin, though Gabriella had feeling that she ate as much as the average teenager. Even though she was probably in her early thirties, she looked and acted as though she was just twenty; but it was her eyes that gave her away. The control, age and wisdom beneath those chestnut pools was enough to frighten any six foot tall football player and that was what Gabriella admired about her.

Unfazed by her rudeness, the petite dark-skinned woman spoke, "I need to have a word with you in my office, now."

She was going to get expelled, she was certain. Most would feel horror at being faced with such a fact, but she felt relief, pure and utter relief. She wordlessly followed the older woman to her office, keeping a large distance between them. At seventeen, Gabriella had accomplished a lot of things for someone her age. In her freshman year she had managed to get a teacher fired, drove another to madness, resulting in them getting fired, won several academic and art competitions, then in her sophomore year she had managed to get another teacher fired, apparently he had taken a liking to getting sexually involved with his students, (she had been unfortunate enough stumble in on them whilst being followed by the principal), and led the school to several victories in track and field. And then in her junior year, her art was already being displayed in several museums across Albuquerque.

That was one of the many things she hated about herself; her ability to draw the future. No one but her ever really understood the point of every single one her drawings, though she had come to the conclusion that people had begun to suspect this adding more to their list of "_How we know Gabriella Montez is crazy_". Just the week before, in art class, she had drawn a picture of a car accident somewhere, with accurate detail, from the victims to every little detail of the scenery, and lo and behold, just a day after completing this an exact replica of this had taken place just north of the city; and the thing most found confusing was the fact that when immersed in her drawing, her eyes would seal shut, her lips would begin to move rapidly, soundless words falling out and her hand would move wildly, finishing an exquisitely detailed diagram in a matter of minutes. Even she herself could not understand this, and she silently prayed that no one, including herself, would ever uncover the real meaning behind this.

"Right, have a seat Gabriella."

It was then that Gabriella noticed that they were not alone in the spacious office. Standing by the large window, arms folded, face unfathomable and draped in a stark black coat that reached the ankles of his matching boots was a tall dark skinned man. He was lean yet muscular. His black cropped hair looked surprisingly neat in comparison with his bad boy posture and it intrigued Gabriella. Tearing her empty eyes from the statue-like figure gazing out the window, she walked towards a vacant chair. When se sat was when she noticed the tall slender female lounging in the corner behind the principal. Her light auburn hair fell in an elegant and sleek tumble down her perfect stopping just at her small, dainty waist. Her slender frame was wrapped in a satin cream dress that flowed around her ankles; her gray eyes brightened up as they landed on Gabriella. The woman looked like she had just walked out of a Lord of The Rings movie.

As Gabriella's blank eyes flitted between the two unknown, extreme opposites, she felt her insides twist and a warm feeling envelope her lower stomach. What was this? She could not help but be entranced by the perfection of both the man by the window and woman in the corner and try as she might, she could not point out a _single _ flaw in the physical appearances and this greatly baffled her, even though it did not show on her face.

"Okay, I'm sure you're probably wondering why I called you in here." Azra began, to which Gabriella just shrugged indifferently and continued staring at the dark wood of the desk, refusing to make eye contact with anyone but just as before the older woman seemed unfazed by her lack of response. "Actually _we _have something quite important that we would wish to discuss with you." She motioned towards the corner where the auburn haired woman was watching Gabriella with cat-like eyes and a delighted smile that actually shone. "That is Zena Eldridge, principal of South High Boarding school; I believe you have heard of it." She said surely.

The gears in Gabriella's brain worked feverously although her blank expression did not once falter. She had heard of the name, a few years back. It had been on a letter to her parent. She had only managed to get a small glimpse of the paper before her mother scolded her for being nosy and that was the last she had seen of the papers. She had recalled that it was somewhere deep within the Blue Ridge Mountains in North Carolina.

"Once or twice." Gabriella mumbled indifferently.

"Well then, that would make this a whole lot easier." Orchestra music filled the room, touching every inch and crevice of the squared room filling Gabriella ears and soothing her body. The smiling woman in the corner had stepped forward and her smile was wider than before, and was showing off the perfectly squared, pearly teeth.

"Hello Gabriella." she spoke and the orchestra and warm feeling possessed Gabriella. How was it possible that one voice could have such an effect? "It's so good to finally meet you. Miss Salvatore has told me so much about you and I like what I have been hearing from her." She spoke with a light Southern drawl that added to the strong power given off by her voice.

Zena held out a pale hand in front of Gabriella face, expecting the mute brunette to shake it. Not really in the mood yet at the same time not wanting to be rude, Gabriella let the outstretched hand encase her small hand. Zena's hand was warm, soft and perfectly shaped.

"And that," Azra's voice cut in and Gabriella dropped Zena's hand and looked away from her enticing and sparkling face, "is Omar."

The man by the window gave a curt nod, not tearing his eyes away from the window. Gabriella noticed that Azra had said nothing about him, but kept this to herself and fixed her gaze on the principals.

"Before I tell you anything else I want to ask you something." Azra started, staring deeply in Gabriella's eyes, several emotions dancing in the chestnut pools, "have you ever felt that you are different? That you don't fit in, that you stand out from the rest of your peers?"

Gabriella stared at the woman blankly, unable to comprehend her words.

"What she is trying to say," Zena interceded, "is that you _are_ different from the rest of the humans in this school."

_Humans? What the hell? _Gabriella wondered, feeling her eyebrows furrow together.

Azra sighed and passed a hand through her wavy locks. She sent Omar a quick glance before leaning forward with her hand placed on her desk. "Um, this is harder than I thought…why is it that you isolate yourself from everyone else? You are completely different from your family and you know that. You love the smell of blood, don't you?"

Gabriella stared at her and let out a dark snort, slouching in her chair as she did so, "what so now you're going to tell me I'm a 'vampire'?" she hissed, digging her stubby fingernails into her palm, a habit she had acquired years prior. "Vampires don't exist."

"Can you show us any proof that they don't?"

As Azra said these words, Gabriella was then fully aware of the intense stare she was receiving form the two only other occupants in the room. Even the broody Omar had turned away from the window and was watching her with his mysterious onyx eyes. Gabriella had to admit, he was pretty hot.

"Well can _you _show me any proof that they do?"

"Look, Gabriella I know this is hard for you to consume but Azra is not fibbing." Zena said "Whether you like it or not, we are vampires and so are you, only you are not a, um, full vampire."

"Whatever." Gabriella muttered. "I have to go."

"Wait!" Gabriella stopped as Zena's musical voice filled the room. She held out her hand where a manila envelope appeared on her palm, shocking yet captivating Gabriella. Was it all true? What they saying? No it couldn't be it was just her mind playing tricks on her.

"What's that?"

"Give it to your parents. It's an acceptance letter"

Gabriella's eyebrows shot up, "acceptance letter?" she queried, for once letting a hint of an emotion to spark up on her face, "to where?"

"Why, South High of course." Zena drawled as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Sensing the confusion in the girl's stance she added, "It is for you." Gabriella's eyes widened in shock; for her?

"By next week we expect you to be on a flight to South Carolina" Azra said with a faint smile.

_South Carolina?_

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><p><strong>AN: Please review and constructive criticism is well appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

I Know What You Are

By wackystrings123

Chapter 2

Her book bag weighed more than usual. She could feel the heavy burden of the stark white envelope, tucked safely between the pages of her biology book, torturing her shoulders. Her face was bank, not one shred of emotion visible but on the inside her mind was working furiously. She couldn't stop thinking about what they had all said and she hated that. She hated being affected by words, actions or gestures; they showed a vulnerable side of her which had been shut away for over a decade. She didn't want it but she had no other choice. The street was mute, tranquil. The only sound coming from the leaves rustling in the stale, winter breeze and the soles of her worn sneakers padding softly against the concrete sidewalk, rhythmically. These were the times she savored, being alone, away from the rest of the world. It was at times like this where she could think, dream and just be free, banish away all the turmoil's and horrors of her life.

She folded her arms firmly across her chest and stared straight ahead of her, shivering slightly as the frigid air coated her body, seeping through the thin layers of her clothing. She wasn't what they said she was; those things only existed in fairytales and crap like _Twilight_. Everybody knew this, well, except people like Azra and Zena and that creepy Omar guy. She scowled sourly. Did they really think she was stupid and naïve enough to believe them? Or did they just take pleasure in messing around with "the weird chick"? as she thought these, her small hand wrapped around the pure white streak of hairs cascading down to her hip like a waterfall of white snow. She wasn't retarded. She didn't believe in mindless fairytales. No, she was way past that stage.

"If I'm a fucking 'vampire' why don't I drink blood, huh? Why can I walk in sunlight and not burn or glow, like that fag in _Twilight_?" she mused out loud, suddenly overcome with hidden rage. Her fist tightened around her hair as the questions filtered through her lips.

"Because you're only _half_-vampire."

An unfamiliar voice sliced through the tranquility of the atmosphere in response to her question. She stopped, but didn't jump or flinch. She never did at times like this. Her face hardened and her eyes drained and with movements, similar to that of a robot she turned towards the speaker. He stood not four steps behind her, his tall, slender body draped in the black cloak and leather clothes. His black eyes were not trained on her but on the weeping willow hanging over an inanimate pond to her right.

"Are you some sort of creepy 'vampire stalker' or something?" Gabriella hissed, folding her arms, her fists clenched, ready to defend herself. Where did he come from? She was certain no-one was following her. She was sure of the fact that she was alone.

The man, Omar, chuckled and matched her pose, only he seemed more relaxed yet alert at the same time. His eyes fell on hers and she was nearly blown away by the black onyx pools. His eyes were beautiful and his pale chocolate skin almost had a sort of glow to it. "Nope." He said in amusement. Then as if pondering the thought, he continued, "But that would've been cool."

Gabriella's scowl deepened. "Then what do you want?"

Omar shrugged indifferently and analyzed the immobile environment. "Nothing really; I'm just here to make sure you get home safely." As he said this, he winked, one that would have sent most girls to an early grave. But not her; she let her arms fall to her sides, fists still clenched and mouth set in a straight line.

"Well then, I suggest you fuck off because there's nothing here worth needing your 'protection', for miles." This was a complete lie and she knew that he knew it too. Even though it was a small, quiet town where the crime rate was practically non-existent, they both knew that it all happened behind closed doors; after all, she had been going through it her whole life.

"Ha, so you say." And he was gone. She didn't know how he did it but one second he was there and the next he had vanished. And she still didn't believe in the whole "vampires exist" tale. So she just shrugged it off and continued walking, erasing the encounter from her mind instantly.

_Home Sweet Home, _she thought bitterly as she shut the wooden front door behind her and trudged quietly up the stairs to the attic, aka, her room. With trained silence, she kicked off her shoes and hauled off her book bag before falling onto the lone mattress, heaved in one corner of the small space, like a pile of wet clothing. Facing the ceiling, she squeezed her eyes shut and softly hummed a familiar tune under her breath, occasionally whispering the lyrics to herself as if to relax her stiff body. She wasn't going anywhere. She wasn't about to kept herself be fooled by stupid stories. She was going to take the envelope out if her bag and rip it to shreds without even opening it. She would push all of this to the back of her head because,

Vampires. Did. Not. Exist.

"Gabriella!"

Gabriella rolled her eyes as she pushed herself off of her makeshift bed and stumbled through the dim light to the door. At a snail's pace she dragged her feet to the caller. Tall, slender and blonde, Marissa Hicks towered over her, her bony hands on her small hips. Her straight blonde hair wrapped perfectly around her exposed bony shoulders. Her thin face bore an angered scowl and she wasted no time in grabbing a clump of Gabriella's hair and dragging her towards the kitchen. The timid brunette followed wordlessly, her lips stretched into a thin line. She was numb to the pain as this was a daily occurrence.

"Who do you think is going to clean up this mess?" she screeched, pushing the brunette into the kitchen with a hostile force. Gabriella stared at the white tiled kitchen, which had been clean and shimmering when she had left in the morning. She rolled her eyes and stalked over to the supply closest, her stance reeking of determination, confidence and indifference. "I want it spotless by the time your father gets home."

"You mean your retarded ass crack husband, _bitch_?" she hissed under her breath as she tugged out a broom and a mop and various other necessary cleaning supplies and let them fall to the ground at her feet.

"What did you say?" Marissa hissed, her small green eyes slanting into thin slits that were meant to make her seem intimidating but only made Gabriella roll her eyes in annoyance and grab the filthy mop off the floor. "I said 'yes ma'am'" she lied smoothly, topping it off with a taunting smirk. Her hands tightened around the wooden handle of the mop, pressing harshly against the blisters on her hands and her stubby fingernails digging into the palm of her hands, a strategy she had created to refrain from inflicting serious pain and damage on to anyone who annoyed her greatly. Marissa smirked devilishly, flashing her pearly white teeth as her bony arms fell to her sides.

"That's what I thought." She remarked with authority before strutting out of the kitchen, her heels making annoying "click-clack" sounds on the tiles.

By midnight Gabriella had made her decision. She was furious for even considering or even hesitating to come to it. It wasn't like her life could get any worse than it already was at that point. As she lay on her mattress, buried under the flimsy material that provided her warmth, her eyes shut tight as she tried to ignore the numbing pain, she knew that by following through with her decision she could leave this hell hole, the sooner the better. Nothing could be worse than the constant abuse, at school and at home. She tired of being used over and over again, of nobody caring about what she wanted, how she felt or what she thought. She was leaving and never coming back. This was a vow she had made to herself and she planned to follow it through.

Mornings were always sour for Gabriella, then again everyday was sour, but mornings just happened to be exceptionally worse. She would always wake up sore, stiff and exhausted at exactly five every morning, come rain come shine, Saturday or Sunday and launch herself into her morning chores; clean up, make breakfast, do the laundry and tend to her parents' needs, which, unfortunately were always nearly impossible and a lot. But this morning was different from all others. Maybe it had to do with the fact that there was hope in her life, things would be different. So whilst her parents were in the kitchen, feasting on the extravagant breakfast she had prepared, Gabriella hauled on a pair of old worn jeans and an oversized tee-shirt before shoving her small feet into a pair of old sneakers. She had the unopened envelope clutched tightly in her fist.

She didn't bother rehearsing or coming up with what to say, like in the movies, she was just going to let it come out naturally. If they refused then she was going to have to take drastic measures to make them agree. She stalked confidently into the dining room, her backpack slung carelessly over her shoulder and the brown envelope in her hands. Marissa was wrapped in a white silk dressing gown which hung limply from her skinny shoulders. Her hair was brushed and framed her shoulders. She was wordlessly picking at the food on her plate whilst her short, stout husband, Louis, was engrossed in the newspaper, the butt of a fat cigar pressed tightly between his thin lips. A flush of hatred and disgust exploded in Gabriella as her eyes landed on the round man with the bristling moustache and small, squinted eyes. She could still vividly recall the way the tiny hairs had prickled the smooth skin of her face almost every night. She shook her head to clear her thoughts; she had a task at hand.

Neither looked up when she walked in. But she was used to this. Her voice was tight and emotionless as she spoke and her face revealed no thoughts or feelings, "I got a letter from the principal-"

"Ha!" Marissa snorted, dropping her fork with a loud clang as she took a sip of her drink, "did they finally realize that you're nothing but a fat whore?" Gabriella rolled her eyes at this. Remarks like these had stopped stinging years ago. Unfazed, she continued, noticing that Louis had closed the newspaper and was hungrily taking her in with his small gray eyes.

"No, but-"

"Dammit!" Marissa interrupted her once more, sounding truly disappointed and she continued to pick at her food. "And I was really hoping-"

"She recommended a school!" Gabriella blurted, annoyed by the constant interruptions. Her small hands were drawn into tight fists, her knuckles popping and turning white at the strain. Marissa's nonexistent eyebrows rose in shock, as did Louis's. The couple exchanged startled glances before returning to their prior activities; Louis to his paper and Marissa to pushing her food around on the ceramic plate. Without sparing her a glance, Louis spoke from behind the newspaper, his rough voice igniting a spark of hatred and a small amount of fear in Gabriella.

"And what makes you think, _my dear_ that you deserve to attend this…school?"

Gabriella shrugged slightly. "I don't know. I just thought it would be appropriate to inform you." She spoke in a tone that dripped mocking respect and politeness. Behind her back, the still unopened envelope burned in her hand, sending waves of heat coursing through her. She really, badly _desperately _wanted and needed to go to this school.

"And what makes you think we give a flying fuck about the opportunities that come your way?" This time it was Marissa who spoke, her high pitched voice shattering the thread of fragile hope that had twisted itself around Gabriella's heart, leaving her with a strong pain in her chest. "Who the hell do you think you are to march in and tell us that you want to attend some G*d forsaken school in who knows where?" Marissa's face had turned an unattractive pink color, the veins in her neck popping and her eyes blazing. Not tearing his eyes off of Gabriella, Louis spoke in a calm voice.

"Go to your room Gabriella. I'll deal with you there."

An iced chill encompassed Gabriella's frail body at these words. They were familiar to her ears, maybe too familiar. It could only mean one thing; the same thing she had been dreading and enduring almost every night for the past seventeen years. The faint crunching of paper filled the muted room as Gabriella's hands curled into tight fists by her sides.

"I have to go to school." She muttered darkly.

Louis' eyes narrowed and his thin lips stretched into a grim line. "Did you not hear me?"

Her expression turned blank and she nodded stiffly before returning to her room without another sound. She glared at the envelope with broken and hate-filled eyes before flinging it carelessly into the trash. She rummaged through her bag, pulled out her sketchpad and fell onto her bed in a defeated heap. She flipped through the used pages and rested on a blank page. She didn't know how long she lay there, staring at the chalk white page, the blunt end of her pencil poised over the smooth paper as she tried to figure out what she wanted.

After seconds, maybe minutes, her eyes drifted closed and her mind turned blank. Her lips began to move, slow at first, and then picking up speed just as the tip of her pencil touched the page. She could feel her hands moving, creating long, soft strokes on the page, curving upwards, then downwards then horizontal and vertical. She could feel herself creating mysterious shapes, shading in the objects with utmost speed, grace and care. Then with one last stroke, whatever invisible spell had been cast on her broke, her body relaxed and her eyelids flew open and she found herself staring into the tormented eyes of the handsome stranger staring back up at her from the page. His jaw was prominent, slightly square in shape and his lips were almost thin and hard; he wasn't smiling nor was he frowning. His cheeks were angular and enhanced the point of his nose. His eyes were normal in size, half covered by his thick, long lashes. His hair was long and unkempt, sticking out in various directions, as though he repeatedly ran his fingers through the strands.

He was perfect; flawless! Well, physically at least.

Yet he looked sad, pained and confused. She found herself gazing into the endless gray pools, shaded in by her pencil, trying to recall the face and absorb in all the emotions swirling in their depths. Almost shakily, she ran her thumb down the length of his jaw, along his pointed nose before resting on his eyes.

Who was he? She found herself wondering as she racked her brain to place a name to the face but none came. Her door slammed open, but she didn't jump, nor flinch, only shoved the book beneath the mattress. Louis walked in, the butt of his cigar wedged between his chapped lips. He shut the door behind him and locked before resting his beady eyes on the small brunette on the floor. Gabriella closed her eyes, hoping it would painless and fast yet at the same time she could not stop thinking about the boy in the drawing. 


End file.
